


In Pieces

by MommaUrsa



Category: Batman Beyond, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommaUrsa/pseuds/MommaUrsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had been dead for years. Nothing was the same. Gotham had changed. Batman had changed. Bruce - his father- had aged, and the family he left behind was broken. Damian finds himself trying to find familiarity in this future while Terry finds himself tasked with the job of investigating Damian's revival. Neither expect the outcome of their searches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Pieces

                He felt it happening. The liquid rushing into his lungs as he drowned endlessly, his skin tightening, making him feel weaker than when he first felt consciousness return to him. He felt the panic slowly bubble to the surface, until he was thrashing around, grabbing for the nearest ledge, only to be shoved back in time and time again.

                He wasn’t fully formed. When his eyes were working, he could see patches of flesh missing on his arm each time he tried to crawl out of the pit. It sent more panic through him, forcing him to fight harder, but his assailant – and he  _knew_  who she was, but he couldn’t see through the green fog and the instinct to fight and flee – was stronger than him. She finally gripped his shoulders and shoved him back down, effectively silencing his screams as the liquid filled his lungs again.

                He gripped the hands, trying to yank them away. He looked up, saw her lips moving slowly. He wasn’t sure how long he was down before he finally felt strength return to him. He felt like he was before – before what, he wasn’t quite sure of, but he felt like he should – his grip on her wrists tightened.

                He jerked the woman’s wrists. He could barely hear her scream as her grip loosened. He surfaced and moved quickly. He tried to see through the fog and panic as he crawled out of the pit. The liquid dripped away from him, leaving him feel more vulnerable than before.

                He ran as fast as he could. He didn’t think, he just went. Everything was a blur as he relied on instinct to get him away from the danger. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, or where the hell he was. He knew he travelled, though how far, he couldn’t remember. When he finally came to, and the fog finally lifted from his mind, he stared up at the large, familiar building that he had fled to.

                His head hurt. He knew who he was. He knew what he had done, he knew he died. He knew he had some brothers, some sisters, and a mother. He remembered what his mother had done, and he knew why he fought so hard to get away.

                He knew he had a father that he had left alone in the manor, with nothing but a broken family and a lot of empty space.


End file.
